


When Good Heists Go Bad

by mokayno



Series: When Good Heists Go Bad Universe [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, F/M, Guns, Heists, Lots of it, M/M, Minor Character Death, Some Fluff, Swearing, Thievery, slight sadstuck, some blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokayno/pseuds/mokayno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro, sometimes known as Dirk, Strider is the leader of a highly intelligent thievery operation. Well, maybe highly intelligent is pushing the bar a little too high. When the biggest heist they've ever pulled goes wrong, because some fuckwits weren't taking their jobs seriously, they'll have to put all of their skills to the test to pull it off. But, will they succeed? [[CURRENTLY NOT BEING UPDATED!! SORRY!!]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prologue: Of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the very first time I've ever written anything fanfiction related...pretty much ever. I hope that it goes okay, I'm actually freaking nervous as all hell to put this out in the open. Please be gentle with me. I'm super awful at summaries too, but I'm pretty sure there's going to be more than just the heist and shit. Grr... rambling. Okay, just enjoy it!! I hope.
> 
> EDIT: I'm going through the chapters and removing Sollux's lisp. It's just too annoying to type out. Sorry if you liked it, just pretend it's there.

They were all standing in the dimly lit room, blue prints sat unfurled on the wooden table in front of them. Bro, known to some as Dirk, was standing at the front of the table. He leans over, pointing at a few spots on the prints as he speaks. Everyone looks at him attentively. They know this was big, and if one of them fucks up, it could fuck them all over.

“John,” Bro looks over to the boy sitting two chairs down from him, “You’re the most important piece to this heist. If you fuck this up we’re gonna be rowing our little asses sideways up shit creak.”

John squirms a little in his chair. He was not exactly fond of being the only one who was light on their feet, and crafty enough to get through some pretty tight security. He knew he was nervous now, but when he got out there and worked his magic he’d be flying high on adrenaline. He nods at Bro, letting him know he knew how important this was, his black hair landing in front of his blue eyes. He blows at it to get it out of the way.

Bro nods back, and then looks down at the blue prints again thoughtfully.

“Dave, you’ll be with John. You may not exactly be light on the feet, but you’re fast and damn good with a sword. We can’t be having the cops show up early to our party tonight, so we’re gonna need you to utilize that little talent of yours lil’ bro.”

Dave raises his eyebrows slightly in affirmation that he understood his role in the game they were going to all be playing tonight. He glances over at John across the table from him. John looks back and grins, making Dave smirk back at him. Never a heist went by without the two of them being tag teamed together. Neither minded, of course, in fact that’s how they preferred it.

“Alright, now Terezi and Vriska have been casing the joint for the past two weeks,” Bro continues, pointing at two spots on the map, “Here, and here are the best points of entry and exit. We gotta get in fast, and get out quick. What we’re looking to get at is,” he pauses and points at a third spot on the map, “in this room. Girls say that at night it’s full of a fuck ton of laser triggers. That’s where Sollux and Roxy come in,” he glances over at the two as he says their names.

Sollux is sitting on the other end of the table, across from Bro. He nods over at him, glancing over his 3D glasses with a confident smirk displayed on his lips. He and Roxy are the teams' hackers. If any joint they hit had intense security, the two of them would hack into it and make their troubles go away. For a while, it’d just been Sollux on the team, until they picked Roxy up. Only Bro knows where she came from. The little blonde sat next to Dave lets off a whoop, and downs a shot of vodka.

“Woop Woop! Sollux and I will be gettn’ our haxor skills on for shuure!!”

Bro lets out a sigh, “Roxy no more drinks for you tonight. We can’t have any mess ups, this shit is way too big for that.” He looks back down at the blueprints. “Now I got Equius and Eridan running ground control, and Jake up in the sky.”

They all knew what that meant. Equius and Eridan were going to disguise themselves as some security guards and look out for anything that could cause them any trouble. Jake would be hiding somewhere with his sniper rifle, silencer engaged, ready to take out trouble from above.

Looking up from the blue prints, Bro scans the faces in front of him. Most looked eager and ready to go, some looked somber.

“I’ll be running the operations from here with Roxy and Sollux. We’ve got one shot at this, I know I keep saying that, but that shits important to remember. Get out your radios and set them to channel 8, it’s the only channel that the feds ain’t been on lately. If anything starts going off the plan, you let me know right away, got it? We’re not fucking around here.” He looks each of them in the eye, or as much of in the eyes as he could through his pointy sunglasses. They got the idea though.

* * *

“Ugh…I hate climbing up these goddamn things,” John whispers harshly. He couldn’t really be much louder, or else someone might hear him.

“Speak for yourself, dude, I’m always the one lifting your fat ass over the wall.” Dave looks up and grins at John as he pushes his leg up.

John swings his other leg around the wall, straddling it. He scoffs down at Dave, “Yah well, I’m always the one having to lift your fat ass up the wall.” He grins, reaching down for Dave.

Dave grabs onto Johns elbows, and John grabs ahold of his. With a bit of a huff from John, and a kick on the wall from Dave, he gets up with hardly any trouble. The two of them sit there for a moment, looking over at the large expanse of grass that sat between them and their goal.

“Why do rich fucks need so much grass anyway? I don’t fucking get it,” Dave whispers as he and John hops off the wall.

“To make our job harder, duh.”

“I seriously doubt that when they were building their house they were like, ‘Yes Jolly good, let’s make our grass as fucking wide and large as we can so that when those pesky robbers come to steal our gold they will have a hard ass time crossing it.’”

John snorts at Dave’s horrible fake accent. He was pretty sure that Dave was actually trying to impersonate Jake.

“Dude, shut up, if someone hears us we’re gonna get fucked. You heard your brother, in and out,” he begins to walk quickly across the wide expanse of grass in front of him. He knew Dave would be right behind him.

A few minutes of walking quietly and the radio starts crackling quietly at John’s hip. Dave looks over at John, red eyes widened in a slight panic. John picks it up, and presses the button to quiet it, while Dave lookes around making sure there are no guards nearby.

“Who the fuck is this? It better be important. Jeez.” John whispers harshly into the radio.

“Three vultures are headed your way from the East. I suggest you hurry this up, ol’ chap,” a slightly obnoxious accent fills the speaker.

“Jake I would have been half way across the godda-,” Dave tugs on John’s arm, interrupting him and pulling him forward. It’s his way of telling John to quit the bitching and get moving. If three guards are headed their way, then they need to be out of sight before they get there.

Quickly and quietly John and Dave make it to the vent that Vriska had found when she was casing the place. It was kind of stupid to go in through the vents, but they really couldn’t picture themselves going in through the front doors.

* * *

In the control room, or at least that’s what Bro likes to think of it as, Sollux and Roxy work quickly. Tapping on their respective keyboards, and staring at their screens as data rolls in front of them. Bro paces behind them, peeking over their shoulders occasionally.

“Sollux, have you gotten into their security cameras yet?” he asks, sounding a little impatient.

“Yes, god, that was probably the easiest security camera I’ve ever had to hack into. I was done with that an hour ago,” he replies sounding a little annoyed.

“Then, what the hell are you doing now?”

“Roxy and I are currently checking out the laser triggers in the loot room. And, making sure that there’s no other surprises for John and Dave when they get in.”

Roxy switches her screen to show the security footage, live and in concert. Tickets on sale now.

“Yeeup! So far there’s been pretty much nothing. Just those boooring lasers. Who even uses those anyway? That’s so cheesy. But, ooh look how hunky this security guard is. Yummmm!”

* * *

“English to big bear, English to big bear. Do you read me?”

“Jake, what the hell did I tell you about using those dumb ass code names. We’re the only ones on this fucking channel.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, you nutter,” Jake grins to himself as he says this, waiting for the older Strider to snap back at him again.

“Did you radio in just to shoot the shit, or do you have something of actual importance to say?”

Jake puts his binoculars to his eyes again, and does a double check to make sure the boys are indeed inside the building. He pulls the radio up and clicks the button to respond.

“Elvis has entered the building,” He grins and scans the outside of the building again.

“Are you telling me they’ve made it into the building?” Dirk sounds irritated, but he’s just really on edge. This is the biggest hit you’ve all attempted.

“Yes, you bloody tosser, that’s what I’m saying.”

* * *

Eridan walks down the hallway, trying to remember the blue prints from earlier. The security room should be around here somewhere. Equius following behind him as sweat dribbles down into his stolen clothes.

“Were we supposed to go left, left, right, left, straight, right?” Eridan asks Equius, voice wavering a little toward the end.

“Uhm…I thought it was left, right, right, left, straight, left. Perhaps, we should turn around or radio in. Gosh I sure could use a towel right about now. This whole plan just has me all riled up and nervous.”

“Hey," a voice shouts down the corridor at them, stopping them in their tracks, "Who the fuck are you? Ya ain’t Bill and Ted!”

“Fuck.”

Equius turns around, pulling the bow off his back. He pulls the string back, arrow in place and it snaps in half.

“Oh, fiddlesticks.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eridan sighs, and grabs his shotgun off his back.

* * *

“Dave,” John pauses in the vents, breathing hard due to the cramped space. He swears to himself as he feels Dave bump into him.

“What dude?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

The radio at John hip goes off, and Jakes voice is heard on the speaker.

“Shots have been fired boys. The double E’s have been spotted. No time to dilly-dally.”

“Fuck,” both boys sigh in unison.

* * *

In the control room, Roxy stares at the cameras and spots Equius and Eridan. She watches the whole exchange go down in the hallway, seeing Eridan pull his gun out and shoot the guard down the hall. She can feel Dirks presence behind her.

“Fuck,” is all he has to say on the matter.


	2. The Fuckwits Emerge Unscathed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eridan and Equius have fucked things up for the rest of the team, but can they salvage the mission? Also, Eridan reminiscences about his past and how he got into the bizz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, wow I spent a lot of time on this chapter. It might not seem like it, but I totally did. I wasn't planning on updating again so soon, but I couldn't stop myself. I'm aware that because they're all using the same channel, technically all of their radios should go off at once. But, because this is pretend land, let's pretend Bro made them so that that wouldn't happen. Yay! Pretend. I've read this over about 50 times, but if you find anything wrong let me know. Fun Fact: I now know a lot more about shotguns then I ever have before.

The shotgun fires down the hallway, bullet aimed right at the man down the hall. Bloodshed wasn’t part of the plan, but neither was getting caught. Eridan quickly pulls the fore-end of his weapon, ejecting the empty shells from the chamber with practiced ease. He pushes it forward on the reload, and then looks over at Equius.

 

“We need to move,” Eridan says as he starts down the hall toward the body.

* * *

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and this isn’t the first time you’ve shot someone. The first time you did, you thought it’d be the last time. Clearly, that is not the case. In fact, if you hadn’t shot her you wouldn’t be where you are today. But, sometimes you wonder if that’s really such a good thing. Seeing as you’ve been pretty dead inside since.

It’s been about three years since you last thought about her. Feferi Peixes. She was your best friend. You’d met her at a grocery store, back when all you did was steal to live. She’d caught you stuffing some food down your pants, but all she did was giggle at you. She looked the other way, which could have gotten her fired seeing as she worked at the place. And despite your rule of never hitting up the same place twice. You went back.

* * *

He bends down to see if the man is really dead or not. Equius stands behind him, keeping an eye out for anybody else that might be running around. The radio at his companion’s side goes off.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Eridan moves the man so he’s sitting up against the wall. Blood pools down the man’s clothes. He thinks that if someone runs by, and gets him to the hospital soon he might live. He looks over at Equius, stepping over a pool of blood, careful not to get any on his purple sneakers.

“You gonna answer that,” he raises his eyebrows at his sweatier companion.

Equius tenses, his muscles bulging a little as he does, and wipes at his brow. His long, black hair is dripping. He picks up the radio at his side, and pushes the button that lets him speak.

“Uh…Well, boss this whole situation is quite a conundrum. Eridan and I were standing in this hall debating on whether we were to go left, left, right, left,” Eridan pulls the radio from his hands, and wipes the sweat from it.

“You idiot, he doesn’t give a shit about that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Equius? Jake says he heard shots. You douchnozzles are one step away from fucking things up in a royal way here.”

Eridan takes in a breath, and clicks the button, “Boss I know it ain’t good. We were lost and some guy spotted us. I panicked and took a shot down the hall.”

Silence falls in the hall; shouts can be heard in the distance getting closer as they stand and wait.

“Alright guys, Roxy’s got this shit in the bag. If you guys make it outta this mess alive; shots are on you,” a more feminine voice takes over, “Kay, there are about 5 guys coming down the hall behind ya guys, so you need to turn your cute little asses around. Go straight in that direction, and when you get to a cross roads go right and keep going. You’ll find the door you shits were looking for on the left.”

“Thanks Rox,” Eridan quickly shouts into the radio before handing it back to Equius, who straps it back in place at his hip.

Immediately, the two of them take off down the path Roxy had laid out. Equius keeps a nice pace, with Eridan having to double his to keep up, shotgun at the ready. He notices that Equius is still clutching onto his broken bow.

“You need to get a new fucking weapon modus or some shit. Bows ain’t cutting it no more,” Eridan huffs out as they bolt down the hall, shaking his head.

Ten minutes of running later, the two of them arrive at their destination, the security room. There’s an entire wall of monitors, and two men sitting in front of them. The men in the room are on high alert, having seen everything go down earlier.

Equius looks into the room, as Eridan looks around for any security cameras that might be seeing them right now. Luck must be on their side for the moment, as he finds none. Glancing at Equius, Eridan holds up a finger, and points to him, and then points toward himself.

 

Equius shows his understanding with a nod, then begins opening the door as quietly as it’ll allow. He grips the two broken pieces of his bow. The men sit in their chairs, head pieces on speaking frantically in them as Equius walks up behind the one nearest to the door.

* * *

You kept going back to the grocery store, quickly learning the days that Feferi worked, and didn’t work. She’d giggle at you when she saw you, calling you a silly clam and telling you that you were interrupting her hard work. You knew she was joking, she never asked you to leave. You’d talk about your life, and she’d tell you about hers.

You soon found out that her mother was ill in the hospital, and her part-time job at the store wasn’t rolling in enough dough to make ends meet. This is when you got an idea, it seems so stupid and cliché to you now, but at the time it felt like the only option. A bank job. You had the necessary equipment at home to get it done.

The next two weeks, were spent casing a small bank down one of those shitty ass streets in town. It wasn’t too big, but it was big enough to have a decent amount of cash. You told Feferi of your plan one day when you visited her. You watched her hands slow as she listened, and looked at you worriedly.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Eridan? It sounds like people could get hurt,” she whispered at you while looking around to make sure no one was nearby.

 

“Fef, I promise no one will get hurt, okay,” words you would later regret promising.

* * *

 “Nah man, it’s like they disappeared from the face of the Earth or somtin, I can’t find 'em.”

“Section 4 is clear.”

“Hey Dan, ya hear somtin? It sounded like the door op-”

Equius quickly wraps the string of his bow around the mans neck and squeezes hard. The man clutches at his throat, obviously choking, face turning a deep red. The other man, Dan, turns to see his companion being choked to death.

Before Dan can react, Eridan has his shotgun in Dan's face, finger on the trigger. Safety off.

“Don’t even think about contacting anyone else,” he snears as he pushes the barrel of his shotgun further into the other's face.

 

The other man gasps for breath as Equius loosens his hold on him, his neck dented in where the rope had been. In some places there are deep cuts on his neck, where blood trickles out slowly. He probably won't last the night.

Eridan hands Equius his gun, and tells him to stand guard so he can go and find somewhere to shove them. He leaves the room, hearing Equius apologize profusely for the damage he’d done to the man’s neck. Eridan huffs as he walks, wondering to himself just how Equius had gotten into this line of work.

When Eridan returns with some rope, the boys take their time tying up the men.

* * *

The plan was to go in with your shotgun, Feferi with a fake gun seeing as she’d never been properly trained. You were going to leave the safety on, no one was going to get hurt, and you guys would get out of there with your money just as quickly as you entered. But then, everything went to shit.

You remember looking at Feferi, giving her a grin and her grinning back. You remember noticing the teller behind her fidgeting nervously. You remember demanding the teller tell you what they’d done. She’d pushed the emergency button behind the counter, the one you hadn’t thought of existing. You remember your mind going blank as you pulled your gun up in a panic, releasing the safety, aiming it at the teller, and pulling the trigger. You remember time slowing down as you watched the bullet glide through the air toward the woman behind the counter, and the fear etched on her face.

 

You vaguely remember hearing your name escape _her_ lips in a scream, _her_ screams at you to stop. You only vaguely remember her pushing the woman behind the desk out of the way. You only vaguely remember watching _your_ bullet enter _her_ body. You only vaguely remember _her_ screams of pain.

* * *

“I am deeply sorry for shoving you in there so roughly,” Equius’s apology is interrupted by Eridan slamming the utility door shut.

Eridan had found it down the hall from the security room. Equius was grateful for the stack of rags inside. They weren’t plush towels, but they would do for now.

The two quickly make their way back to the security room, after making sure that the closet was locked tight. Equius picks up the radio at his side, and hits the button.

“We have infiltrated the security room,” he says over the speaker.

Eridan sits and messes around with his hair as they wait for their next instructions. He had put a generous amount of hairspray in the black locks just this morning, but all the running around and sweating he’d been doing seems to have loosened it. The only part that stayed put was the purple part which he had dyed a few weeks ago, the rest of it falls into his dark purple eyes over his thick glasses.

The radio crackles to life in Equius’s strong, glove clad hands, “Listen up guys,” Sollux’s voice is heard.

“We are present and ready for our next orders,” Equius wipes some sweat off his forehead with one of the rags, and Eridan grimaces.

“Right. Roxy and I need to switch away from watching the security cameras so that we can finish hacking into the security system. We’re working on a time crunch here, cuz someone must have flipped the alarm. You need to find John and Dave, and help them get the fuck out of there.”

“What are our time limitations?”

“You guys got twenty minutes to find them, get the shit, and get the fuck out.”

Equius glances at Eridan behind his broken shades. Eridan looks back and nods at him, before getting to work scanning the screens in front of him.

“Have you informed the others?”

“Working on it, now get the fuck to work.”

“Is…Is that a command,” Equius wipes at his brow again with a towel.

“Yes, it’s a goddamn command. I don’t have time for this shit,” Sollux yells through the speaker.

Equius sets the radio down, and begins the task of looking for their friends on the screens in front of them.

* * *

Tears soaked your cheeks as you held her tight in your arms, ski mask pressed tightly to the hole in her stomach. The hole that you had created. You ran not knowing where you were running to. You just had to get away from that bank. From the place where you had shot the only person in this world that was important to you.

Blood soaked your arms, your hands, your everything as you stopped in an alley. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t even remember when you started sobbing. The only thing you remember is looking down at her pale face, her beautiful eyes that were once filled with life now empty. You held her close to you, whispering apologies into her hair. Apologies she’d never get to hear. That was when he walked out of the door across from you, and into your life.

 

Dirk Strider. He owned the bar that the door connected to, and you could vaguely hear the bass pumping from the inside. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you. It wasn’t until a few days later, after her funeral, that you heard him speak. He’d come to pay his respects, he’d told you. He offered you his condolences, and then he offered you a job. You almost refused him, knowing it was this line of work that had caused _her_ to be buried before you in the ground. But then, you figured you didn’t really have anything left to lose.

* * *

“Do you see anything?” Eridan asks after a few minutes of looking carefully at the monitors in front of him.

“Nothing yet, you?”

“No…Not…Wait I think I see a foot,” Eridan leans closer to a screen, “How the hell do I zoom this shit in?”

Equius walks over and fiddles around with a few knobs near the screen. It zooms in close, but pixelates the closer it gets.

“You idiot, that’s too close. Now we can’t see anything.”

Eridan pushes him away from the controls, and fiddles around with it himself. Soon, the picture is recognizable.

On the screen before them, another foot joins the first one that had been hanging down from the ceiling. It looks like John’s feet, but because of the pixels it’s hard to tell. A few moments later, a pair of legs joins the feet. Then, John is seen hanging from the vents, seemingly not wanting to drop down the few feet to the ground.

The boys watch as John appears to be talking to the vent, and then he drops down to the ground.

“What section is this in,” Equius questions quietly, “Does it say anywhere near the screen?”

Eridan looks around it trying to find an indication on it that would tell them where John has exited the vents at. Equius spots a map at the back of the room, and scans it quickly.

“I think… I think its section 7?”

“Are you positive about this, we need to be positive,” Equius puts his finger on the point of the map where himself and Eridan currently are as he speaks.

“I’m positive enough,” Eridan snaps at him, throwing a look to his watch around his wrist.

Equius traces a path on the map that will lead them to the section where they believe John to be. He grabs a pen, careful not to break it in his grasp, and begins writing directions down on a napkin he found earlier.

Glancing at the screen again, Eridan notices that Dave has now joined John on the ground. They appear to be talking in the hall, possibly debating what their next move should be. He quickly grabs the radio sitting on the desk.

“This is the double E’s radioing in to pepsicola. Do you read me,” Eridan grins at himself. He knows that radio names are lame, but he couldn’t help himself.

He watches as John picks up his radio, and responds, “Eridan what the fuck are you doing? We’re in the middle of a hallway, and guess what? The acoustics in here could make the Grand Canyon jealous.”

“Yeah yeah, listen. We see you on the screens, and Equius is currently working on finding the quickest path to you guys,” he watches as the two of them look around the hallway searching for the camera. Dave spots it first, and waves.

“What do you want us to do? Just stand out in the fucking open and wait? That sounds like a dumb plan man.”

“I don’t fucking know, figure something out. We’ve got,” he pauses and looks at his watch, ten minutes have already gone by, “fuck. We’ve only got ten minutes to get the fuck out of here.”

“Well then hurry the fuck up maybe? Jeez,” John’s reply sounds irritated.

Eridan glances back at Equius, who holds up the directions. Quickly, the two of them grab their respective weapons and bolt the fuck out of the door.  

* * *

"Shouldn't I be in jail," you ask him as you sit across the table from him, "I mean I did attempt armed robbery and comitte-"

"All records of your existence have been wiped clean. All you have to do is keep your head low, and out of sight," Dirk replied looking over at you with a straight face. You've never seen anyone look so calm and collected, and shit your pants scary all at once.

"How did you manage that?"

"None of your concern. Just do as I said and lay low. Don't talk to anyone outside-a this club, ya got me?"

You looked at him, fingers twitching a little in your lap nervously. His eyes bore into you, burning you with their seriousness.

"Yah. I got you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SOB SOB SOB* Fun fact: I almost made myself cry.
> 
> Sorry I sadstucked. I never realized how much of a sadist I can be until just this moment. Hope you guys enjoyed it though! Also, I spent the better part of last night starting at my screen in shock at how many people looked at this in one night. Thank you all SO MUCH! It's you guys that keep me going. Comments appreciated!


	3. Captain Badass to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is pretty much Spiderman in shorts carrying pistols. That's all there is to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this, or at least being interested enough to click on the link. I hope you guys like this as much as I had fun writing it. This style is how I intend to write the remaining chapters, however many there are.

Jake sits in his hiding place up in the tree. It is not the most comfortable of places to be sitting, keeping watch, and he is sure his ass is going to fall off any minute from how numb it’s gotten. He had just gotten off the radio with Dirk, informing him of John and Dave’s entry into the house.

He sits back against the branch behind him, thinking about what waits inside the house for them. As one of Dirks most trusted advocates in the ragamuffin team of misfits, Jake was privy to the type of fortune success tonight could bring for all of them.

This client Dirk had everyone working for was not a typical type of client. Normally, the team did small jobs like pilfer shiny objects from local businesses. On occasion, there would be slightly bigger jobs from slightly more covert and higher up clients. But, this one was taking the cake on all of them. Only Dirk had been in contact with him, and then it was through the means of the man’s lackies. If that didn’t scream how important it was, Jake didn’t know what would.

He finds it kind of silly that such an important item is hidden in a house like this one. It was one of those houses, or in this case a mansion, turned into a history museum of sorts. This particular mansion had been home to some very important man once upon a time. Who the man was no one really cared about anymore. It was the items inside that were important, and why there was so much security around the place.

His sniper rifle digs into his back, snapping him out of his thoughts. Jake readjusts hoping to find some comfort up in this blasted tree he's forced to sit in. One of the major downfalls to being one of the oldest on the team, and the only one capable of handling the confounded thing strapped to his back, was having to keep watch. He also carries duel pistols at his waist and a pair of binoculars around his neck.

He is close enough to the house where if trouble starts he could easily come in and intervene, but far enough away where he wouldn’t get caught. Picking up the binoculars, Jake pushes them against his square glasses, scanning the grounds. He was beginning to get bored, and restless. Adventure came as second nature to him, and sitting around in a tree all damn night was making him feel absolutely useless. Perhaps he could fire off a few rounds if he threw a silencer on the barrel.

Jake’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a shot ringing through the silence. His green eyes widens and immediately he scrambles for the radio.

“Dirk, come in Dirk,” there was no time for dilly-dallying if he thinks what just happened, happened, “We have a code red on our hands, old chum.”

“I know I saw it on the screens,” Dirk's voice crackles through the radio, immediately getting down to business.

“I only heard the one. It was quite faint. Plan of action?”

“One moment tiger,” Dirk speaks calmly, but his voice gives off clear vibes that shit is about to get serious, “I need you to get ahold of John and Dave for me.”

“Right-O.”

Quickly, Jake begins fiddling with the buttons on his radio. Dirk patented. It worked as a walkie-talkie, and a phone all in one go. No one was sure how except for the maker himself. Finally, he had it set to connect with the radio that he knew John had on him. Neither of the boys in the vents could have been the cause of the shots though, considering all they had on them was a shitty sword. It was obvious to Jake who the real cause of the commotion was.

Jake pushes the talk button and speaks clearly, “Shots have been fired, boys. The double E’s have been spotted. No time to dilly-dally.”

While waiting for a response, he slowly begins to climb out of the tree. It doesn’t take too long, and by the time he reaches the ground his radio is crackling to life.

“Alright bro, this is how this shit is going to go down. I need you to be on your a-game tonight, meaning super on top of this shit,” Dirk’s voice seeps through sounding just a little stressed out.

“Come now, Dirk, we’ve known and worked with each other long enough. You should realize I always bring my a-game,” he smirks a little, allowing himself to bask in his self-praise for just a moment.

“Now’s not the time to get your head stuck up your ass, you piss nugget. We’re working on a tight time frame of 20 minutes. You heard me right two-zero.”

 Jake's face goes from smarmy dill-weed, to dead serious in seconds flat, “Right. What’s the plan?”

“Roxy just sent the two fuck-wits to the camera station; while she and Sol work on holding the alarm system off for as long as they can. Some guard in there probably heard the fireworks go off and hit the panic button. I need you to make your way in, and help Dave and John get the shit and get out. Think you can manage that on such a time crunch?”

Jake scoffs into the radio, “Just who do you think I am, Mr. Strider? Of course I can get in and out of the bloody building within 20 minutes.”

“Just what I like to hear. Good to know not everyone is an incompetent asshole,” you can practically hear the smirk.

There’s no need to reply, as that would be just a waste of precious time. He pulls his pistols from his gun holster, and then bends over the hidden duffel bag at the base of the tree. Digging through he finds some extra ammo cartridges and pockets them. He decides on a whim to relieve himself of sniper duty, as it won’t do him much good with close range. He prefers his duel pistols anyway.

Feeling satisfied with his lightened load, and comfortable enough with the amount of extra ammo on his person he begins his journey out of the woods toward the fence ahead of him. He scales it with ease, and throws himself over the top, landing on his feet on the other side.

He grips his pistols in each hand, running across the open field with practiced stealth. Occasionally he stops behind the sparse trees littering the yard, peering around the bark. When the coast is clear, he begins his trek once more.

As he does this he reflects on how long he’s been doing these sorts of things for. Practically his entire life, if he is honest with himself. His dad had been a big mob boss type of fellow, and had Jake trained in the art of weapons since the day he could talk. He thinks he would have started sooner, but Jake’s grandmother had strictly forbid it. Jake never minded though, he’d always felt that the weapons were just an extension of himself in a way.

When his father died, in a very questionable way, Jake had moved to a new city. He didn’t feel he was the mob boss type. He’d tried out at the police academy, but soon found out that the weapons they used and the policies they upheld there didn’t really appeal to him at all. It was soon after that he’d run into Dirk at his bar. He’d been hammered at the time, and Dirk being a bartender was forced into listening to Jake rattle off about his trouble finding a job that let him use his extensive knowledge of weaponry in the way he liked. Soon after the deal had been sealed, and Jake began working for him. It was a decision he never once regretted.

The sound of voices nearing on the other side of the wall shakes Jake out of his reverie of the past.

“I’m telling you, man, I saw something over there,” a grisly voice says.

“I think you’ve had one too many pot brownies man,” another, easy going sounding voice, replies.

“Didn’t you hear the announcement on the radios? Someone got shot inside, we’re supposed to be patrolling not getting high,” the first voice sounding increasingly frustrated.

“Whatever man, I only took this job cuz I was sposed tah,” is the reply.

Jake begins to recognize one of the voices, as Gamzee Makara, the inside man. He wasn’t doing a very good job of being inside out here, now was he? Jake makes a mental note to report this to Dirk after they get out of this mess alive.

As the voices begin to draw nearer, Jake scans the wall in front of him. He sees a window about a foot out of arms reach. He thinks if he could climb up, possibly knock the glass out he could climb in through there. This is something he would never suggest anyone who isn’t himself do. Ever. As he’s a trained professional at these sorts of things.

Without a second thought, he puts his guns back into their holster for easier climbing. Sticking his foot in a groove on the wall, he reaches for another above his head. Hoisting himself up on the wall, he quickly grabs at another groove on the wall. He continues up the wall this way with careful movements so as to not slip, almost doing so once or twice.

He can feel his breath quickening, and his muscles tightening as he reaches the window, having to hold on extra carefully to something that was barely there. He pushes on the window pane, with a hope that the window had just been carelessly left unlocked. With no such luck, he makes a quick decision and pulls a pistol from his holster. The muscles in his left arm strain with the added weight of having to hold him up alone. He manages to click the safety of the gun on, and he grips the barrel in his right hand. Ducking his head down he smashes the butt end of his gun into the window with as much force as he can muster.

The glass shatters beneath the butt of his gun, and on to his hair. Other pieces fall to the ground. He shakes his head and pulls himself up a little more to break more of the window. He needs just enough of it broken for him to be able to climb through. The voice of the man from earlier is heard shouting in the near distance, probably having heard the glass break. Time is running short.

When enough of the window has been broken, Jake hauls himself up with a huff and manages to get his torso through the hole he’d just created. His gloved hands crunch over the shards of glass on the floor as he pulls his hind quarters through. As his feet make it into the building, he can hear a shout from outside, where he just was.

“Did you fucking see that, man? I swear to God I just saw someone’s feet go through that window. Has it always been broken?”

“Nah man, that’s just the motherfucking brownies talking,” Gamzee assures him.

Jake thinks maybe he won’t report the lad to Dirk, seeing as his slacking off and getting high had just saved his arse. It’s almost like a bloody miracle. He slumps on the ground allowing himself a minute to calm down. After his minute, he gets off of the floor swiping shards of glass off himself. He’ll check later if there’s any glass lodged somewhere it shouldn’t, but for now there's work to be done.

He walks across the room and toward the only door, opening it. He peeks his head around the corner to make sure no one is around, and then quietly walks into the hall closing the door behind him. Picking up his radio with his left hand, and clutching his pistol with his right hand, he checks the dials to make sure he has it set to the right channel before hitting the talk button.

“I’m in.”

He waits around for a response, glancing up and down the hall every so often to make sure no one is coming down it.

“Alright Jake, let me know when you’re ready and I’ll send you to where you should go,” Roxy’s voice comes from the speaker.

“’Ello Roxy, long time no chat.”

“Cut the crap Jake and just tell me where you are.”

“Alright, alright, who put the bees in your bonnet,” he pauses to look at the plague by the door, “I’m outside of the Historical Documents room. Probably on the second floor, judging from the height of the window I just climbed through.”

“You climbed through a window? What are you some kind of crazy maniac,” Roxy asks skeptically.

“Quite the contrary, now please stop wasting time we have a job to get done,” he grins wickedly at having turned the game around on her.

“Oh shut up. Alright here’s where you need to go.”

He follows the path she lays out for him quick enough. He doesn’t question how she knows where he should go to find Dave and John. He assumes she’s using the cameras and the map from earlier simultaneously. He spares a quick look at his watch. Ten minutes have gone by already.

Jake rounds the last corner on his journey and spots his comrades down the hall. He sprints the last couple of feet, not really caring if he startles them or not.

Dave reacts first, pushing John behind him sword held in front of him in defense before he realizes it’s only Jake.

“What are you doing in here; shouldn’t you be outside keeping watch?” Dave questions Jake.

“Change of plans, Dirks orders mate. We have to hurry and get the item and get out of here before our asses become fried.”

“We have to wait for Eridan and Equius,” John pipes up from behind Dave.

“Oh, Jesus on a cracker, are you serious? They have exactly,” Jake looks down at his watch, “a minute and a half to get here before we leave them.”

John nods as Dave lowers his sword.

Jake once more pulls his radio off his belt, “I’ve found them Roxy. I don’t know how you do it, but doll, you’re a right genius,” he smirks and turns away from the boys.

“Wow Jake, where did you buy that compliment? The dollar tree?” Dirk replies.

Jake blushes as John and Dave snort behind him. “Oh shut it, Strider," he shoots back into the radio.

Jake takes a look at his watch, “Well I guess times up; we should be on our way lads.”

The three of them walk down the hallway, John leading the way. Jake and Dave are on either side, weapons drawn just in case of an incident. As they round a corner, loud obnoxious footsteps sound from behind them.

“Wait, goddammit,” a voice huffs out from behind.

The three turn around, and standing there huffing out of breath is Eridan and Equius. Equius doesn't seem too fazed, but Eridan has his hands on his knees puffing.

“I…cannot…believe…you were gonna…leave us…whew,” Eridan huffs out, standing up and wiping a hand across his brow to remove the sweat.

Equius stands, gripping a towel in his hands, trying desperately to wipe his own sweat off. But the towel is already drenched from the run.

“Well, c’mon ol’ chaps. There’s no time to lose,” Jake says in an upbeat tone as he turns to head back down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Guacamole Batman! Is this Chapter 3? Why yes. Yes it is. Sorry it took so long to poop this out, but I had to stew on it for a while, because wow how do you Jake? I actually had a shit ton of fun writing this from Jake's POV, maybe it was the Indian Jones soundtrack? WHO KNOWS! 
> 
> Fun Fact: I'm probably going to write Johns back story as a separate piece from this one, because 1. the way I have it in my head kind of makes it way too long for short snippets, and 2. I really just want to write some John/Dave and John's POV on stuff. So look for that probably this week? No promises on that though.
> 
> Also quick shout out to my friends who put up with me ranting about how I had no idea how to get Jake into the building "realistically."
> 
> Comments, or whatever are most welcome! <3


	4. Hickory Dickory...What the FUCK?

“Shots have been fired boys. The double E’s have been spotted. No time to dilly-dally.”

“Fuck,” both boys sigh in unison.

“What do you think we should do,” John asks Dave.

“Getting the fuck out of these vents is pretty much number one on my list of shit we need to do right now,” Dave replies sounding a little shaky. He hates small spaces.

John looks down at the map in front of him, shining his head light down at it. He calculates the number of turns Dave and himself have done, before pointing at a spot on the map. He looks up ahead of him, then down at the map again to be sure.

“Okay, I think this is the turn we’re supposed to take.”

“Well, get your ass in motion Egbert. We don’t have time to have a fucking tea party with the goddamn ventilation mice.”

John sighs trying not to get too annoyed with how bossy Dave’s getting. He’s surprised that Dave’s made it this far in the vents with little comments about how small it is. He rolls the map up and sticks it in the front of his pants, having nowhere else to really stick it, and starts forward again. He hears Dave follow him as he takes a left turn, and starts down the vent. If what the map had said is right, this should lead to a dead end. If what Bro had told him was true, there should be a grate at the end of it for them to get out of.

“You doing okay back there,” John calls out to Dave, feeling a little worried at the silence.

“Yah, M’fine. How much longer,” Dave asks, sounding a little out of breath.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer, I can see a light at the end. I think it’s a light.”

“Are you sure you don’t have that dumb ass head gear turned on still, and that’s what you’re seeing?”

“No, Dave I’m not that dumb. Have a little faith why don’t you. The light is coming from down, not from my head.”

Not long after, John makes it to the end of the vent and looks down. Sure enough, there’s a grate at the end as promised. The light coming out of it looks like the sterile light of a hospital, and blinds John for a few seconds as his eyes get used to it. Dave bumps into his ass, a few seconds later unaware that John had stopped.

“Dude, are we there?” Dave calls out, sounding hopeful.

“Yah, but the grate is screwed shut. Do you remember if we brought a screwdriver?”

“Fuck I don’t know, look in your backpack.”

“I would LOVE to look in my backpack, Dave, but I can’t fucking reach.”

Dave presses closer to John, and feels around looking for the backpack zipper. John hears a soft bang, and some swearing as he moves around in the small space. The zipper noise of the pack opening sounds, and John can only imagine the awkward angle which Dave has twisted himself in to reach inside the bag on your back.

A few curse words later, and what looks like a screwdriver lands in front of John. He picks it up, throwing thanks over his shoulder, and starts loosening the screws in the metal. Soon enough he manages to get the last one off. He sets the screwdriver down in front of him, and picks the metal grate up.

John takes in a deep breath as he stares at the open hole in front of him, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do. He places his hands on the sides of the vent walls, and very carefully maneuvers himself over the hole. He exhales slowly, and then grips the end of the hole. He moves his legs carefully through the hole and dangles for a moment.

“Oh fuck. Dave if I die, tell my Dad I loved him and I’m sorry for constantly avoiding his cakes,” he sounds a little more panicked than he had intended to.

“Dude, relax and use those muscles I know you got. Remember those breathing techniques I told ya about, and try not to go down too fast or you could sprain something.”

“Dave Strider, always ready to help others out even when he’s on the verge of a panic attack,” John mumbles, but takes a breath in anyway.

He lowers himself down, and can feel the strain in his arm muscles as they take on his full weight. He dangles out of the vent for a few seconds, bracing himself yet again before releasing his hold on the metal, and falls to the ground. He lands on his feet, knees buckling on the impact, but for the most part he manages to stay upright. He looks up at the vent, seeing Dave’s face peeking out at John. John gives him a thumbs up and stands up to get out of his way. He has little to no trouble with exiting the vent, and is by John’s side in seconds. John gives him a small smile, and Dave pats his back returning a smirk of his own.

“Alright,” John pulls his map out and looks at it again, then down the hall, “We have to go down that way and to the left. Should we go now or…”

“I don’t know, the others were supposed to be here by now. That was the plan anyway.”

The radio at John’s hip begins to crackle to life, “This is the double E’s radioing in to pepsicola. Do you read me,” John rolls his eyes at the pet names. Why was everyone they worked with a bunch of dumbshits?

He picks the radio up, and pushes the respond button, ““Eridan what the fuck are you doing? We’re in the middle of a hallway, and guess what? The acoustics in here could make the Grand Canyon jealous.”

“Yeah yeah, listen. We see you on the screens, and Equius is currently working on finding the quickest path to you guys.”

John and Dave start looking up and down the hall for the camera. Dave spots it first and gives a little wave at it, shouldering his shitty sword as he does so.

“What do you want us to do? Just stand out in the fucking open and wait? That sounds like a dumb plan man,” John replies sounding a little pissed.

“I don’t fucking know, figure something out. We’ve got,” there’s a pause, before the radio crackles again, “fuck. We’ve only got ten minutes to get the fuck out of here.”

“Well then hurry the fuck up maybe? Jeez,” John puts the radio back in its holding area at his waist, and looks over at Dave, “why are we forced to work these dumbfucks?”

Dave shrugs, “beats me. But, if Bro trusts them then we gotta do the same.”

“Yah, I guess.”

Not long after, the sound of someone approaching is heard. Dave is the first to react, pushing John behind him as he gets into a fighting stance. Soon enough, he realizes that it’s only Jake.

“What are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be outside,” Dave questions Jake.

“Change of plans, Dirks orders mate. We have to hurry and get the item and get out of here before our asses become fried.”

“We have to wait for Eridan and Equius,” John pipes up from behind Dave.

“Oh, Jesus on a cracker, are you serious? They have exactly,” Jake looks down at his watch, “a minute and a half to get here before we leave them.”

John nods as Dave lowers his sword.

Jake pulls his radio off his belt, “I’ve found them Roxy. I don’t know how you do it, but doll, you’re a right genius,” he smirks and turns away from the boys.

John looks at Dave, and raises his eyebrows at him questioningly. Dave looks back at John and shrugs. 

“Wow Jake, where did you buy that compliment? The dollar tree?” Bro replies.

Jake blushes as John and Dave snort behind him. “Oh shut it, Strider," he shoots back into the radio. But, John thinks he’s not just talking to the older one. The thought only makes him grin wider.

Jake takes a look at his watch, “Well I guess times up; we should be on our way lads.”

The three of them walk down the way Jake had just come from. John leading the way, as he was the only one who remembered the path well enough. Jake and Dave flank him, weapons drawn just in case of an incident. As they round a corner, loud obnoxious footsteps sound from behind them.

“Wait, goddammit,” a voice huffs out from behind.

The three turn around, and standing there huffing out of breath is Eridan and Equius. Equius doesn't seem too fazed, but Eridan has his hands on his knees puffing.

“I…cannot…believe…you were gonna…leave us…whew,” Eridan huffs out, standing up and wiping a hand across his brow to remove the sweat.

Equius stands, gripping a towel in his hands, trying desperately to wipe his own sweat off. But the towel is already drenched from the run.

“Well, c’mon ol’ chaps. There’s no time to lose,” Jake says in an upbeat tone as he turns to head back down the hall.

The two newcomers nod, and take up the rear end of their crazy train. John continues walking down the hall, stopping as Dave and Jake check around corners for security guards. They manage to make it to the room without too much trouble finding them.

One guard spotted their group, and had been about to call out when Dave flash stepped, and bunted him on the side of his head with the handle of his sword.

“I guess this sword isn’t entirely shitty after all.”

With no time to hide the unconscious man, the group continued on their way.

A few turns later, John paused outside of a door that said, “Clock Room” on a shiny plague.

“This is it,” John says and pulls his bag off his back. He kneels on the ground and ruffles through it looking for one of the metal bugs that Bro had put in his pack. It was a special kind of machinery that’s sole purpose was to pick locks. Was quicker, and left behind relatively zero trace evidence.

“Clock room? What the bloody hell are we doing in front of a clock room, John,” Eridan says slowly looking from the plague down to John.

John shrugs, “The thing we’re getting is in here, I guess.”

Eridan narrows his eyes at John suspiciously, but chooses not to reply. John stands, and hands off his bag to Dave. He slides the metallic creature toward the keyhole in the door, and it bursts to life. In seconds, a soft clicking noise is heard and the bug crawls out. John takes it and puts it back in the bag, before zipping it up and shouldering it.

“Who wants to do the honors of opening the door?” John looks around.

“We don’t have time to sit around, old chaps. Perhaps, it’s best if I open it seeing as I have gloves on,” Jake offers.

He walks toward the door, and pulls it open. Dave and Jake lead the group in, followed by John, who is followed by Equius and Eridan. John rolls his eyes, feeling like he’s being escorted by secret service. He scans the room quickly though, and sees their prize for the night sitting on a pedestal with lights shining down at it.

John walks towards it, followed by the other men in the room. Surprisingly, there’s only a rope keeping John and the item apart. That’s soon remedied, as John steps over the rope with relative ease. He takes his bag off his back and unzips it. He sets it down, and gingerly picks up the item in front of him.

“A CLOCK?!” Eridans voice rings out around the room, “Are you fucking kidding me? We came all of this way, went through all of this hell for a motherfucking clock!?”

John looks over at him, as do the others. Jake is desperately trying to shoosh him, as Dave stares at him like he’s the dumbest person on the planet. Equius just stands nervously, glancing over at the door. John shrugs in response, and puts it in the case that had been in his backpack.

“It’s what our client wanted, Eri. And, whatever our clients want, we get. You know that,” Jake says, “Now would you please keep it down?”

“No glubbing way we came all of this way for that piece of shit clock. It’s not even a normal clock color! It’s green! What’s so special about a green fucking clock? Nothing, I’ll tell you what!”Eridan continues ranting.

“Dude, shut the _fuck_ up before I run you through with my sword. So, help me if you ruin this mission any more than you already have I swear I’ll fucking do it.”

Eridan shuts up mid sentence, the tone of Dave’s voice tells him that he’s not in the mood for any bullshit right now.

Dave turns to look at John, who has just finished zipping his backpack yet again, “ready to go, sweet cheeks?”

John shoulders his bag before replying, “Yah, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Gentleman,” Jake’s voice sounds put off, “I’m afraid we’ve gone over our given time limit. Getting out is going to be much more fun than getting in.”

John looks over at Jake, and is not quite sure what to make of that grin on his face. An alarm rings out through the place.

“How the fuck are we going to get out of here,” Eridan sounds panicked.

“Follow me, gents. Not a moment to lose,” Jake grins as he runs out of the door, pistols held high in his hands, and an almost manic grin gracing his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I fucking updated the SHIT out of this!! I hope this is okay, and isn't rushed? Maybe it's because I'm listening to fast music that's making it feel rushed. I hope not! Also, from this point on there should be a lot less conversation repetition. Sorry for all of that, but it was necessary. 
> 
> The type of clock they picked up was a mantal clock, looking similar to: http://www.loricron.com/132-W.jpg but, green. What could this mean? Gasp! It's all in the plot, my friends. Which, by the way, everything starts blowing up from here. PCHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!


	5. T'was Beauty that killed the Beast

Dave watches Jake walk out of the room, pistols held high in his hands. He briefly worries about the manic grin on the other man’s face, but his thoughts are interrupted as a voice behind him pipes up. He turns to look at the source of the talking, finding it’s Eridan. What a big fucking surprise, not.

“Now what are we supposed to do? How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here? Does anyone have a plan?”

“I have a plan for you Eridan, it’s called shut up!” John glares at him, arms crossed. Dave can tell that the stress is getting to him. Eridan glares back at him, looking ready to start a fight.

Dave interjects, “Alright boys calm down,” he begins walking toward the door as notices Jake beckoning for them to hurry their asses out of the room, “It’s time to execute plan GTFO a’here,” he says as he unsheathes his sword, resting it on his shoulder.

He meets up with Jake in the hall, addressing him as the others file out behind Dave, “emergency exit plan?”

“Right, well chaps…you’re not going to like this exactly…”

“Just spit it out.”

“We’re going to need to go back the way I came in,” Jake looks around at the men in front of him.

“Didn’t you scale the building,” John asks skeptically from behind Dave.

“Well…yes…”

“You wish for us to jump out of the window you came through?” Equius pipes out.

“Uh…yes. I can’t honestly think of a better plan, or I wouldn’t suggest it. If any of you fellas have a better plan, please speak up now.”

No one made any objections, so Jake continued, “Besides, I believe it the quickest way back to my beloved duffel bag, and to the getaway vehicle.”

“What’s in your duffel,” Dave asks, voice tinged with curiosity as he scans the perimeter casually.

“My sniper rifle, of course. Can’t just leave my baby behind,” Jake grins widely over at Dave.

“Alright cool, you might as well lead the way. Time to get plan GTFO a’here in motion.” He looks past Jake and spots trouble running down their way, “And, we’ve got company.”

Jake turns on his heel, and sees the guards running at them. Dave assumes he’s grinning at them. He thinks that if he were them, he’d high tail it out of there at the sight of Jake’s grin and pistols held high. But, the men continue their trek. What troopers they must be.

“Stay in formation, men.”

Dave takes a step closer to Jake, making sure to stay in front of John with his sword held in a defensive post in front of him. He takes a quick look behind him to make sure the others are following suit. He sees Eridan with his shotgun cocked, ready to fire. He takes a look over at Equius, and notices he’s holding nothing but a metal cylinder. Seconds later, the cylinder unfolds itself into the shape of a bow. Dave turns back to face the enemies, feeling confident with the knowledge that John’s covered.

“Nice machine there, dude. Bro make it?” Dave throws the question over at Equius.

“No, it is a contraption of my own make. I have been meaning to test it out; this will make a good test run. I just hope that it holds out.”

Dave smirks, “You and me both, man.”

“Halt!” one of the men in front of the group bravely shouts out.

Jake grins over at Dave and rolls his eyes, “They always do that as if it’ll stop us.”

Soon everything is a flurry of motion, of gunshots ringing through the air, shouts of pain as bullet meets skin, sword makes contact. The group makes a run for it through the corridors, slowing only to clear a path in front of them when more guards show up. Dave can feel his heart racing, the adrenaline pumping through his veins fueling each of his swings.

“I wish I had a fucking gun, or at least that I could help more!” John breathes out as they run through another corridor, this time empty.

“You know Bros orders, keep your hammer in your pants unless it’s an emergency and leave the fighting to us. If something happens to you the--“ his sentence is cut off by Jakes voice floating down to them.

“We’re almost there, lads. It’s just a little further down this hall.”

Jake stops in front of a door, the label next to it reading ‘Historical Documents.’ He opens it up, and steps inside. Dave follows close behind with John behind him. He looks around the room and notices a bunch of filing cabinets, and most importantly a broken window. So the fucker really had climbed up the building. Dave was beginning to feel mildly impressed with the man.

They agree as a group that it’d be easier to climb out the window if they opened it, instead of trying to fit through the hole Jake had punched out. While Jake and John work on getting the window open, that voice pipes up from the back of the room again. Dave looks over to Eridan where he’d found a spot next to the door, leaning against the wall.

“There’s no way I’m jumping out of there.”

“You’ll have to if you want to get out of here,” John grunts as he pushes up on the window.

“I think I’ll find a safer way for myself, thanks,” Eridan bites back.

“Awww… Shucks Eridan, is this your way of saying you’ll distract the badies so we can all escape? You do care,” Dave smirks over at him.

“Shut up, you shit for brains nobody. I’m looking out for number one here, and that’s me.”

Dave stares at him a moment, noticing his fidgeting hands on his weapon, and his shuffling feet. “Yah okay man, whatever you say.” He watches as Eridan slides out of the room, middle finger raised nice and high for the entire world to see. What a douche nozzle.

When Dave turns around, he sees that Equius and Jake have already exited the room via window express. John is going to take his place, but Dave can see his nervousness. He knows John doesn’t really mind heights, but falling from them? Forget it.

He walks over to John, and kneels in front of him, “Hey, it’ll be fine dude. You just gotta remember to land on your feet, bend your knees just a bit before impact, and don’t forget to extend after. And, when you roll just go straight ahead, none of this sideways business.” “Heh, that’s easy for you to say mister ninja of the night.”

Dave kisses his cheek for luck, and then pats him on the back below his backpack, “don’t forget to breathe.”

“Oh my god, Dave, I know,” John snaps from the nerves as he scoots out of the window and lets go of the window.

Dave looks out to see him in a pile on the ground next to Jake, who is bending over to help him out of the John heap. Dave winces as he watches John limp to his feet, and as John throws a thumb up his way.

Dave straddles the window, scoots himself out of the window and free-falls toward the ground. He remembers to land on his feet, and finishes his forward roll by jumping back to his feet. John lets go of Jake and hops over to Dave, with a grin on his face. Dave wraps an arm around his waist to balance him out.

“I guess I forgot how to land properly,” answering Dave’s unasked question, “Guess I’m lucky all I did was hurt my ankle, right?”

“Damn lucky. Could have broken your everything, you ditz. Be more careful next time.”

“Oh, there definitely won’t be a next time. I’m making sure of that.”

“Alright boys, I’m going to make a run for my duffel. The three of you stay here in the shadows, and wait for my signal. Then you run my way,” Jake cuts in, straightforward as always.

“What’s the signal?” John questions.

“Oh, you’ll know,” he grins at the boys, before running off quick as a fox.

“That guy is a fucking nut job, no wonder my bro likes him so much,” Dave says as he adjusts his hold on John, who responds with a quiet snort. “How’s your bow holding up?” Dave questions Equius.

He holds up his bow, which is now bent at a few awkward angles and grins sheepishly over at Dave. Dave grins back at him softly.

“Dude, you seriously need a new strife specibus.”

“Isn’t he stuck with th-“ a shot rings out through the air, interrupting John. A man’s shout of pain is heard to the far left.

“What a fucking signal. Equius, can you grab his other side? It’ll make it easier to run,” Dave tries to ignore John’s grimace of either disgust or pain. There’s no time to figure which one.

“Ah! Don’t grab me there!” John squeals out.

“My apologies, my hand slipped.”

Dave raises his eyebrows at the two, “can we possibly get a move on here?”

They both blush a little, before their faces grow serious. The men scramble across the field as quickly as they can. The three of them reach the wall eventually, as the confused yelling is heard from behind. Jake must have switched his silencer on, as there are no shots heard anymore.

“He is not going to be able to climb up the wall alone with his leg the way it is.”

“Yah, and he’s only going to hurt his fucking ankle even more falling down from the top of this thing.”

“Dave, shut up okay? It’ll be fine, just help me already. We don’t really have to the time to argue about this.”

Dave helps Equius lift him up, despite the misgivings he feels about this. He watches as yet again, John launches himself off something to plummet to the ground out of his site. If there was ever an award for worst at their job, Dave was sure he’d be the fucking champion. This thought flares to life as Dave hears a soft crunching from the other side of the wall, followed by a grunt of pain.

“John…” he calls out, sounding a little panicky wishing he could see through cement.

“M’fine, think I broke it now.”

Dave starts reciting his acceptance speech in his head.

“There are guards running around over there, Strider. They will see us in moments time,” Equius interrupts Dave’s internal monologuing.

“We’ll have to lift you over somehow fi-“ he’s interrupted as his feet leave the ground.

“No time for that, I’m afraid. I must follow my orders, you understand,” he sets Dave on the wall as if he were a dawn pillow. Before running off, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what looks like a bracelet. He hands it to Dave. “Could you give this to Nepeta for me, please? Her birthday is in a few days.”

Dave inspects the delicate metal in his hands, and notices it’s a charm bracelet. There are two halves a diamond, a cat, and a horse for charms. He doesn’t get the joke, but he’s sure Nepeta will. He stuffs it in his own pocket, and looks down at Equius solemnly.

“Yah man, no problem.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it greatly. I will distract the men, you should get going.”

Dave watches him run off for a moment before he hops off the wall next to John. He looks over at John leaning against the wall, his foot twisted at an odd angle. Dave grimaces. He bends down in front of John to inspect it closer.

“You doing alright?”

John inhales, probably from pain as Dave gingerly rolls John’s pants leg up.

“I’m fantastic Dave. I’m just getting ready to have some tea with the Queen of the motherland.”

“Hey, sarcasm to cover pain is my thing. Don’t be stealing my things, John. So rude.”

John grins up at him, how he manages to while his foot is sitting there at an awkward angle is beyond Dave, “I’m going to be an even bigger piece of uselessness now. Leave me to die.”

Dave stands a little, and sheaths his sword. He adjusts it so it sits at his waist, instead of around his back. “Oh hell no. I’m not putting up with any more dramatic exits tonight, handsome, especially not from you.” He crouches down in front of John, back facing him hands thrown over his shoulders. “Climb on gorilla boy.”

“Gorilla boy? Dave what the fuck even?”

“You’re one hairy ass dude, just telling it how it is.”

“And you call me rude,” John scoffs as he manages to cling to Dave’s back without bumping his foot too much.

“It’s alright, you still manage to turn me on even though you look like Donkey Kong,” he puts his hands under John’s butt to hold him better, giving it a little squeeze.

“Daaaave, I’m in pain here. Run from the law now, try to get in my pants later!”

“Right, sorry. Got distracted by the fine piece of ass that is quite literally sitting in my hands right now,” he begins to rant quietly as he stumbles between the trees, “Isn’t it weird that the fair princess is the one having to save Donkey Kong right now? No wait, oh man we’re totally King Konging it up in here!”

“Are you saying you’re going to kill me, Dave?”

“Well, I did convince you to plummet to your demise leaving you currently trapped in my arms clinging to me like a boyfriend backpack. Accessories included.”

John breathes a laugh in Dave’s ear, “you’re so lame sometimes.”

“Hey, I thought we were going to try the seducing thing later. Getting my hopes up, Egbert.”

He feels John nuzzle against his shoulder as he adjusts him, careful not to drop him.

They manage to make it to the van. Dave sets John down by the wheel, and fishes around under the vehicle for the key to unlock it. When he finds it, he crawls out and wipes the dirt from his clothes. He unlocks the door, and slides it open. He grabs the first aid kit.

He carefully helps John hop into the van. John lies back across the back seat, as Dave digs through the first aid kit. He finds an ice pack, and some bandages.

“This might sting a little,” he says to John as he gingerly straightens out John’s foot. Dave hears John make a soft whining noise, but otherwise remains quiet. He cracks the ice pack to release the cold, and sets it against John’s ankle. He wraps the bandages around it to hold it in place, John making pained sounds every once in a while. When he’s finished, he bends over and kisses it softly. He knew it was dumb, but he couldn’t help but be dumb sometimes.

“That should help with the swelling, but it won’t make the hurt stop,” Dave digs out a bottle of Ibuprofen, and a bottle of water from John’s backpack. He passes them to John.

The bushes behind Dave begin to rustle, making him stand quickly reaching for his sword. He realizes that it’s Jake, and silently curses him for sneaking up on him twice today. He looks Jake over, and can tell the man’s exhausted, but manages to shoot Dave a grin.

“Glad to see most of us made it back,” he walks over to John, and spots his foot all bandaged up, “Yikes, you’ll have to have Jane take a look at that when we get back. There’s a pillow in the back he can rest it on.” He walks to the front of the van, and hops in the driver’s seat.

Dave gets John buckled and comfortable in the back before he joins Jake in the front. He glances back at John, who gives him a small smile and blows him a kiss. Dave blushes and sticks his tongue out at John as Jake starts the engine.

“Make sure you’re buckled, boys. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

* * *

You fall slumped against the concrete, far enough away that the men shouldn’t be able to find, let alone follow, John, Dave and Jake. Your breathing feels forced and labored. Curse your confounded contraption for giving out on you at such a critical moment. Gently, you poke at your shoulder, a groan of pain escapes you. Blast. Just as you thought. You’d been shot. You feel your body slump further down, and your mind begin to go blank. At least, you knew that you’d gone out following your orders, and that Nepeta would like your gift. It was a symbol of the friendship the two of you shared, handmade especially for her. She was the best friend any man could ask for. You feel a small grin crack on your face, and then nothing.

* * *

 

“We’ve got a live one over here!” a police man’s voice shouts in the distance, “Bring a stretcher, he’s been shot!”

A few men detach themselves from the large group. It was a busy night for them. They rush over to where the shout had come from, one pushing a stretcher. They work quickly to lift the man on it.

“Don’t worry, man, we’ll save ya. Just hang in there,” the police man yells as he runs alongside the stretcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so cute, and then sadstuck. Is it sad that in my outline for the chapter, I actually forgot the word for stretcher so I just put in parentheses (wheelie device)? I hope that this was okay! I really had a lot of fun writing it. Here's a tip, outlines? Yah, those are really helpful holy shit. If you find anything that needs to fixed, let me know! Comments are greatly welcomed.


	6. Confrontations of the Intense Variety

You wake up, feeling groggy. Every inch of your body throbs, your brain aches from trying to figure out which part hurts more. You make to sit up, and the pain in your left shoulder intensifies making the other aches feel like nothing. You collapse back into what feels to be a mountain of pillows. Your breathing feels labored, and your eyes refuse to so much as make a quick appearance to the world.

You hear a door open in front of the bed you're laying on. Footstep sounds walk in your direction. You lay still doing your best to keep your breathing and heart rate steady. You don't know where you are, and who the footsteps belong to. Therefore, you don't trust them.

A gruff voice speaks from your left, “This him?”

“Yes sir, that's him alright,” a slightly higher pitched voice sounds to your right.

“He hasn't woken up since he got here, huh?”

“No, sir.”

“And he had no ID. The museum was sure that he isn't an employee?”

“Correct, sir. They have no records of this man in their database. I made sure of it.”

“So, we got nothing solid on him yet. Fucking fantastic.”

“Right, sir. Just a regular John Doe until he wakes up!”

You feel the mattress sink a little on your left. You assume the man there has either sat upon your bed, or is leaning on it. The man sighs.

“He might have something to do with the break in, but until he wakes up we can't know for sure. Either way, I want to see handcuffs on this man by the time I come back. Do I make myself clear?” His gruff voice dripping with authority.

“Y-yes sir, anything you say, sir.”

You feel the man on your left lean over you. The man smells like cheap cologne, and bad news. You work harder to keep your breathing even, and your heart rate low. Try as you might, you can't stop the sweat forming on your brow.

He speaks in your ear quietly, breath tickling your ear, “Your little friends can't hide forever, bub. I'll sniff them out of the little shit hole they crawled back into, you mark my words. This isn't a threat, it's a promise, boy.”

The pressure on your mattress disappears, but his smell lingers with his words. You hear his footsteps leading back toward the door he'd come from.

When he speaks again, you almost jump out of your skin in a panic, “Lieutenant, do you have the other man ready for interrogation?”

“Yes, sir,” the man on your right starts walking toward the other man, his footsteps lighter.

“Very good. I'll be taking my leave. Remember, hand cuffs.” 

You hear the door open, and close softly a few seconds later. You breath in, and out slowly. You open your eyes to blinding hospital lights. Staring at the ceiling in dismay, you begin to feel more lost and unsure of what to do than you ever have.

 

* * *

 

 

Jake pulls the getaway vehicle up to the back door of the bar. Jake kills the ignition, and hops out with his duffel. Dave follows suit, making a stop to open the back door. He offers to give John another piggy back up to headquarters, but John refuses. He claims he didn't want to look like a weak baby in front of Dave's bro. Dave rolls his eyes, but instead holds Johns waist as he hobbles to the door.

They climb the stairs up to the top floor a little slowly. John hopping up the stairs one at a time, and Dave standing behind him at the ready in case he fell. They make it to the landing, and Dave once more wraps his arm around John. They make their way passed the rec room, the planning room, and Sollux's computer lair stopping when they reach Bro's office door.

When they enter, they notice that Jake has already made himself comfortable leaning against Bro's desk. Roxy stands behind Bro, and looks at the two with relief clear on her face. Sollux stands on the other side of him, arms crossed. A corner of his mouth turned downwards in a slight frown.

Dave leads John to one of the chairs sitting in front of the desk. After he settles John in, he settles himself in the chair next to him. He crosses his own arms, and knits his brows together as he glares through his shades at his brother sitting across him.

Bro leans against his desk, his pointy shades hanging from his disheveled suit. He usually only wore it when meeting with important people, Dave wonders momentarily what he was doing with it on.

His thoughts interrupted as Bro speaks, “I'm glad to see that everyone has made it back in one piece.”

Dave feels his glare harden, and his fists grip the arms of the chair a little, “You know damn well not everyone is here, and we're definitely not in one piece. We were lucky to get out of there with as little casualties as we did! What the fuck are you playing at, Bro?” His brother really had no sense of decency! Those men had put their life on the line for you guys to get away. He should be more respectful of that.

Bro narrows his eyes, orange eyes boring straight through Dave's lenses into his red, “Everyone of importance made it ba-”

Dave stands up and slams his hands on Bro's desk, “Equius and Eridan aren't important? They were part of your fucking team. They sacrificed themselves for us to get away of their own accord. You should show some goddamn respect,” he practically growls at his brother.

Jake puts his hand on Daves shoulder, and gently guides him back to his chair, “Now Dave, I know it's hard for you to understand right now. But, your brother was just looking out for us.”

Dave glares up at him, then returns his glare to Bro, “What the fuck is he talking about?”

Bro sighs, and rubs his hands across his face.

“It's not a very good time for this, Dave,” Jake replies, returning to his spot at the desk.

“I want him to tell me what the fuck you're talking about, Jake,” Dave says sharply.

Bro looks at Dave for a moment, before turning his attention to John, “Do you have the item of interest?”

John looks startled at being addressed, having been watching the drama unfold from his seat, “O-oh! Uh, yah it's in the case in my pack. Just like you asked.” He pats his backpack sitting next to his chair.

“Good,” he turns to Roxy, who had been standing behind him looking unsure between the arguing Striders, “Roxy could you run and get Jane, please?”

Roxy nods, and walks out quickly as Dave snaps out at Bro, “Don't fucking ignore me, Bro, that's so fucking uncool.”

“No, Dave. You're the one being uncool right now. What do you want me to say?” He stands from his seat and leans against his desk toward Dave, “Sacrifices had to be made, they knew it when they fucking signed up for the mission. It was made perfectly clear to them from the beginning that they'd be nothing more than pawns to be disposed of if needed,” he leans further towards Dave, his voice growing quiet anger, “So don't you dare try to put any guilt about this shit on my shoulders, bro.”

Dave crosses his arms in defiance, and looks away from his brother, “They are still human fucking beings.”

Just then, the door to the office opens; interrupting the Strider stare down. All men in the room look as Roxy and Jane enter. They stop in the doorway, feeling the tension in the air.

“Oh dear, Roxy came to get me? I'm supposed to fix up John? But it looks like you are having a male thing right now, and I'm not sure I want to interrupt,” she looks between the Striders nervously, biting her bottom lip a little in worry.

Bro recovers first, giving her a small smile of reassurance, “No Jane, you're timing's perfect. But, maybe you should take John and Dave to the medical room instead. It'd be easier for you to check him over there anyway,” he says it easily, but his meaning is clear; _get these kids out of my office before I strangle one of them._

“Perhaps I should...” she trails off as she glances at John and Dave.

Dave lets out an aggravated sigh, before getting out of his chair to help John up. Dave helps John toward the exit; John wincing and hissing every once in a while. When they make it to the door, Bro's voice sounds from behind.

“Sol, could you keep on the news for me? Find out whatever you can, and how much they know. I have a feeling we need to prepare for something big,” he gestures toward Roxy still standing at the door helping Dave with John, “maybe get Roxy to help you.”

Sollux responds with a quiet, “sure thing, boss,” before he starts for the exit, walking around the foursome grouped in the doorway.

“Jake,” Bro turns toward the man in question, “I need you to stay behind. We have some things we need to discuss,” he gives the man a look, and some kind of understanding passes between them.

Jake grins, and salutes at Bro, “No problemo.”

Dave scowls as their group is excused from the room, still livid at his brother.

 

* * *

 

 

You're sat in a darkly lit room, a small metal table in front of you. Where the handcuffs are attached to your wrists begin to itch. The man that had brought you in here had been gone for quiet some time. You spare a glance at yourself in the mirror to your right. You look ghastly, as if someone had bleached your skin clear of color, and stuck your fingers in an electrical socket at the same time. The purple streak in your hair sank lower across your forehead then you ever remember it being before.

A few moments later, and the tall man in a fancy black suit walks through the door across from you. He holds a manilla folder in his hands, and you begin to feel your palms sweat with nerves. The man walks across the room with an air of confidence, stopping in front of the table.

“Well well well, look who we have here,” he grins an oily smile down at you before seating himself in the chair across the table from you. He sets the folder on the table as if it were a precious gem, and opens it carefully. He begins to remove pieces of paper, setting them next to the folder. He slides them across the table so they sit in front of you. You notice they're photos, and newspaper clippings. He speaks, as if trying to be casual, “look familiar?”

Confusion graces your face, and you look down at the articles laid out in front of you. Realization hits you, and you feel your eyes widen in shock. The clippings had to have been a few years old. Headlines screamed at you, “BANK ROBBER AND MURDERER: STILL AT LARGE!” Below were grainy pictures of his face. He looked younger, but it was him nonetheless.

The man's gruff voice piped up from across the table, the casual tone turning to one of a smug quality, “Interesting case, that one; my first unsolved. The bank robber shot his partner in crime, ran off with her body, only to dump her in alley-way across town. Only some kinda sick bastard would do something that low. Rumors were spread through town that the man had been found in his apartment, dead. Suicide, autopsies reported. Probably couldn't handle the guilt. But,” he pauses and leans across until his face is mere inches from your own, a twisted grin gracing his face, “we both know that's not true, don't we? Eridan Ampora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN! WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN GUYS?! Also, I really want to thank you all who are sticking with this! Sorry I don't update it on a schedule. School's almost done with, so I should be able to keep up with this stuff better after that. This chapter is a little short, sorry about that. Enjoy! Comments are welcomed, they make me smile and encourage me to keep going!


	7. The Tables Flip Turn Upside-Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out!!

When everyone is out of the room, Dirk lets out a sigh he had been holding in for a while. He lays his head on the desk in front of him. His shoulders slump, and he begins to smack his forehead against the oak repeatedly. The events of the night had not gone according to his plan at all.

“Come on now, stop that nonsense,” Jake's voice sounds from above him.

Dirk groans in frustration, speaking to the table he says, “we're in some deep fucking shit, Jake. Do you realize that?”

“Well, it definitely could have gone worse. I figure we're not that far up the poop shoot quite yet,” Dirk could practically hear the grin in Jake's voice.

“You're such an idiot sometimes,” Dirk sits up, his forehead pink from it's battle with the table, “you know that?” He looks up at Jake from across the desk.

“Quite aware! Anywho,” Jake's eyes light up with a gleam of adventure as he rubs his hands together, “What's the next bit of the plan? Do we bust the idiots out of jail guns a' blazing?”

“No, we're going to deliver the goods. We gotta get that shit out of here as soon as fucking possible.”

“I thought you said the client would be picking it up, and paying tomorrow,” Jake questions.

Dirk stands, plucking his anime shades from his jacket before slipping them on. He straightens his suit, fixing a few mismatched buttons. When he feels satisfied with his look he replies, “Plans have changed, Jakey-boy. We fucked up big time tonight, sure, but we can't just sit here with our thumbs up our asses waiting around with the fucking evidence of our fuck up sitting in my office.”

A moment of silence passes as Jake thinks over the logic before Dirk breaks though it, “Go get your suit on,” he begins to dig through papers on his desk, not looking up at Jake.

“The black one?”

Dirk nods in response.

“Shall I bring along Neytiri and Smurfette?”

“Some firepower couldn't hurt.”

“Splendid, I'll be back in a jiffy.”

Dirk hears him walk across the room, and when the door closes he lets loose another sigh. He allows himself a moment of weakness, and his emotions flash across his face. He thinks about how fucked they all are, and that it was all his own goddamn fault. But, as quick as the thoughts appear they're gone. He shakes his head, effectively clearing his mind of all negative thoughts.

 _He could still salvage this_ , he thinks to himself. With an air of determination, he picks up his desk phone and dials the number he'd been looking for.

* * *

 

Jake drives Dirks orange 2004 Lamborghini Gallardo down a gravel road surrounded by trees. Dirk usually kept this particular in storage, choosing only to use it to impress his more financially inclined clientele. Though he always had Jake drive it due to the fact Dirk didn't know how to drive a stick shift, let alone one with six-speeds. Besides, Dirk could sit back and appreciate the look Jake got on his face every time he sat behind the wheel of this baby. Usually, that's exactly what Dirk would be doing.

On this drive, Dirk stares at the case seated on his lap. He barely registers the GPS woman’s' voice as she spouts off the directions. He couldn't help thinking about how much trouble this stupid shit _clock_ had gotten them into so far. He shook the thoughts from his mind, instead focusing on psyching himself up for what was to come.

The client had sounded none too pleased when Dirk phoned him just thirty minutes earlier. But, Dirk had persuaded him give Dirk his address so Dirk and Jake could meet up with him a day before planned. Arguing that it was safer to do the transaction at the client's place, other than at the bar. The client agreed, and had given Dirk the address begrudgingly.

Dirk snaps back to reality when the woman's voice calmly informs the men that their destination would be to the left. He peers out of the windshield to the area the woman said was their destination. Confusion graces his features when all he sees is just more goddamn trees. He scans the rest of the area in front of him, and notices that the road ends ahead; forming a small clearing amidst the trees.

“Are you quite sure this is the right address?” Jake questions, making it clear that he's just as confused as Dirk.

“Yah, I put in the address that baldy gave me,” he takes his shades off, setting them on the car console, leaning forward in hopes he could find some sort of building between the trees.

“Maybe it's a ruse? A set-up?” Jake pulls up to a stop where the road ends, putting it into park.

“Whatever it is, keep your eyes peeled. I'm not a real big fan of surprises,” Dirk mumbles as he pulls his door handle, pushing the door open, and getting out all in one motion. He leans on the open door, hearing Jake open his own.

“Boy howdy, this is rather eerie, wouldn't you say?” Jake says, punctuating his point by closing his door.

A rustling of leaves breaks the tense silence. In an instant, Jake's hands fly to his pistols seated on his hips. Dirk stands still, his senses on high alert as he stares at the area the noise came from straight ahead. He can feel the pounding of his heart against his ribs.

“Now now, gentlemen there's no need to be feisty,” a voice calls out from ahead. A bald man in a white suit with green trim steps out from behind the trees. Even from a distance, Dirk can see the whites of his teeth sparkling in the dim light from the moon. The man's grin seemed the be permanently fixated on his face, resembling that of the Cheshire cat. He held his hands in the air as he walked closer, as if ready to surrender.

Dirk finally closes his car door, after grabbing the case from his seat. He motions at Jake to lower his guard a little, and walks around the car. He meets the man half-way in the middle of the clearing, Jake following close behind. The men stop with a good five feet between them.

“Where's our cash, Doc?” Dirk questions the man, having noticed his empty hands.

“Not to worry, not to worry. It is here, but I would like to see my prize first,” the man, Doc, responds.

Dirk notices Doc's blank eyes focusing on the case in Dirks hands. Doc's tanned, wrinkled hands extended out toward Dirk. How the man always seemed to see through his milky white eyes had given Dirk the creeps the day they met. A chill runs down Dirks spine, and he slips the box behind his back. He watches as Doc's eyes follow the box, then snap up to meet Dirk's own.

“Show me yours, and I'll show you mine,” Dirk throws back at the man wishing he had his shades on.

Doc's grin falters before returning to his face, looking a little strained.

“Dirk, my boy, I am nothing if not an excellent host. But,” he pauses as he raises a hand in the air, a finger pointing upwards, “you are no longer in any position to be making compromises.”

Seconds later, Dirk hears a scuffle from behind him and one of Jake's pistols enters his peripheral. Jake's pistol is pointing directly at Doc. Dirk takes a quick glance over to Jake, whose face is set hard in concentration.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Dirk mumbles quiet enough for only Jake to hear.

Jake jerks his head a little toward one of the trees. Dirk scans the trees before noticing a shimmer of metal from one of the trees. Dirk looks back to Doc, who is standing there as if there wasn't a gun pointed directly at him.

“Boys, boys what did I say?” Doc says, his grin making Dirk feel uncomfortable, “Do not get feisty. Dirk, my boy, call off your attack dog. We wouldn't want to make this any more trouble than it already is,” Doc says with a tone of nonchalance.

“Why don't you call yours off first,” Dirk replies, imitating Doc's tone of indifference.

“But Dirk, my boy, did you not hear me the first time? You are in no position to argue. Not anymore. Now be a good boy and set the case on the ground gently,” Doc's grin widens.

“What makes you think I'm going to do that, huh? Show us the cash, Doc,” a sense of dread begins to wash through Dirk.

Doc's grin falls, a look of thinning patience gracing his wrinkled features, “You don't get it yet, do you boy? There is no money! You've been played. Now hand over the case before I'm forced to pry it from your cold, dead hands,” Doc's voice rising in anger.

Anger tears through Dirk, he can feel his ever careful mask of indifference being replaced with the rage coursing through him, “You dirty fucking bastard!” He shouts going to launch himself at the older man, but a hand to his chest stops him.

Jake still has a pistol raised, but is looking around them. A look of unease, and dread flit across his face.

“It's no use mate. Give him the case, and then we'll reconvene later and sort all this shit at a leisurely pace back at the bar,” Jake sounds as if he's trying to be calm, but the tremor in it betrays him.

“Listen to your friend, he seems to have his head screwed on correctly.”

“Clearly you don't fucking know Jake then,” Dirk mumbles as he pushes Jake's hand off of him. He glares over at the older man.

“Come on, my boy, just hand over the case and you can go on your way,” Doc says with a tone of impatience.

Dirk feels himself snap at being called this man's _boy._ He feels a growl of anger escape him, as he brings the case back into full view.

“You want your fucking precious little _clock_ then fucking,” he pauses as he extends his arm back, getting ready for the throw, “TAKE IT THEN!” He launches the case at Doc. He feels as if time has slowed down as he watches the case fly through the air, end over end.

Time comes back to him when the sounds of at least twelve guns firing at once fills the air. It's impossible to tell where the shots are being fired from. Time feels as if it's being fast forwarded as Dirk feels a pinch in his arm. His arm begins to feel as if it's burning as he falls to the dirt.

Dirk hears Jake scramble over to him, and feels Jake lift him off the ground by his uninjured arm with a groan. He barely registers being shoved into the passenger seat of the car, and Jake burning rubber as he peeled the fuck out of dodge.

The pain in Dirks arm throbs, but he grits his teeth and pushes past it. He can hear Jake's breathing as the other man tries to calm his nerves. Dirk thinks he hears Jake mumble something about needing to do something to stop the bleeding, but Dirk isn't sure.

He's lost in his thoughts as his brain tries to process what went down just then. He punches at the car's console with his good arm as the events come flooding back. He'd been played the whole time, nothing more than a fucking pawn in this guy's sick game.

He thinks back to when Doc had come up to him with the job. Doc had obviously been a little off from the start, but Dirk had looked passed it to the guys money. Doc threw some dollar signs at Dirk, and Dirk knew that everyone on his team could use a little extra cash. He'd thought their reputation on the back streets was finally kicking off. He'd figured his team had done enough little jobs, and that they were ready for something big like this. Unfortunately, he'd given his team more credit than they deserved.

Dirk folds in on himself as these thoughts wash over him, his forehead resting on his knees. He feels blood trickling down his arm, and hears the car tires digging into the dirt road. The last thought creeping through his mind before his mind; _I can still fix this, I fucking have to._ Then, everything turns to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things. I wanted this to be longer, I seriously thought it WOULD be longer!! I hope that the length is alright. But, I'm done with school now so I should be able to crank these out more often now! Also, Chiaroscuro should be updating sometime next week. I also want to thank everyone who's stuck with this, or is sticking with this and for being patient about the updates being so slow! And thank you to my friends who put up with me rambling about this all the time. Haha! 
> 
> If you're interested: http://files.conceptcarz.com/img/Lamborghini/04_Lambo_gallardo_DV-06-Belle-03.jpg This is Dirk's car. I just wanted him to have a REALLY nice car, so I spent like an hour researching some nice ones. I liked this best. I hope that Dirk doesn't come off as too "emo" in this. As always, comments feed my soul. Leave a comment! (Also, when I wrote Jake's pistols names, I had to stop and laugh for a good ten minutes. Thanks to Kou for the idea. :D)


	8. Of Scottie Dogs, Tender Touches, and Life Saving Booze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this took way too long and I am so sorry for that. Thank you to all who have/are sticking with this story!!! (Also, there are mentions of blood in this chapter? I don't know I feel the need to put a little warning here. Also, some really dumb boyfriend moments that I probably got carried away with. LOL)

You're sitting at your desk, looking over the documents you acquired from earlier in the night. Most of it was worthless shit that didn't pertain to your case. Speaking of your case, this case could make or break your career. This case was big. Huge, in fact. If you could catch the criminals in a timely manner you could get that promotion you'd been eying for the last year.

Going back to your case files though. You look at the pile of junk on your desk. The pile of junk is unsurprisingly taller than the pile of useful things. The Eridan kid you had been interrogating earlier wasn't squealing yet. Damn those loyal sons'a'bitches. They always fuck things up for you. No matter though, you'll find a way to get the kid to squawk. Maybe if you tell him you can get his jail sentence lowered a few years you can win him over. Damn why didn't you try that first?

You knock over the pile of useless junk to the floor. No use keeping it piled nicely on your desk. It's just going to get in the damn way. If it wasn't important evidence, you'd have burned it by now. That's how useful it was to you. Oh it sounds as if someone's knocking on your door, who the fuck could be bothering you at this time? Didn't you tell the others to go home?

“Who the fuck is it?” you shout out at the door.

“It's me, boss, got someone 'ere that wants to speak witch ya.”

You groan, “Droog what did I fucking tell ya? No visitors when I'm working on this! It's fucking important and shit,” you shuffle some papers to look like you're busy. Just incase.

“Guy says he's got some information about that case.”

“Information you say? Is it something we can use, or is it just more useless junk?”

You hear a muffled voice speak from the other side of the door before Droog speaks up again, “He says it's the useful kind, should I let him in?”

“Yah, yah. Let 'im in,” you open a file at random, and stare at the contents of it.

The door creaks open, and you look up to see Droog opening the door. A man, slightly shorter than Droog and slightly taller than yourself, enters behind him. He's bald, even by your standards. In fact, if you were to give him a nickname (something you're rather fond of doing) you'd call him “cueball” considering just how bald and shiny his head is.

“Good evening, sir, my name is Doc Scratch,” he walks in, Droog shutting the door behind him. He walks to the empty chair in front of your desk, his arm in a sling. You wonder briefly what happened to him before you decide you don't care anymore. All you care about from this man is the information he apparently has. He takes a seat.

“Cut straight to the point, cueball, I got a lot of work to get done and not a lot of time to do it. Whatchya got for me,” you sit back in your chair, kicking your feet up on your desk.

“I believe what I have to tell you shall be very informative towards your case,” Cueball says, “in fact, what I have to tell you could very well lead you to the culprit of the museum crime,” Cueball grins at you.

You lean forward in your chair, suddenly feeling very interested in what Cueball has to say to you, “Please, go on.”

* * *

 

John sighs as he stares down at his foot. Jane had put it in a brace earlier, but he could still feel the random twinge of pain every now and again. John looks up at Dave, sitting across from him in one of the wooden chairs scattered randomly around the room. From where he's sitting, he can tell that Dave's deep in thought, his eyes staring unfocused at John's leg.

John wiggles uncomfortably on the metal table he'd been told to sit on earlier. They were waiting for Jane to come back with some pain meds for John. John reaches his injured leg forward as best he can toward Dave. This movement brings Dave out of his internal reverie. His eyes snap up to John, and he scoots his chair forward enough for John's foot to reach. John rests his foot on Dave's lap, and sighs in content. Having it hang in the air for so long was starting to make it twinge.

“So...Dave...” John breaks the slightly tense silence that had been hanging in the air.

“So, John,” Dave responds curtly.

John sighs, “Dave, do you really need to be an ass right now?”

It's Dave's turn to sigh, “I think that the word 'ass' could easily apply to you too, honeybuns,” Dave grins at John sarcastically before his mouth drops back into a frown.

“Alright, I get it we're both assholes. And, look I totally get why you're upset dude! This whole night has just been one disaster after another, but we can't sit and dwell on it. Right?” John asks quietly.

Dave picks at John's brace, sitting quietly in thought before responding, “Yah, I guess, but damn John. If Eridan and Equius hadn't gone out of their way to _get caught_ where do you think we'd be right now? Not fucking here, I can assure you of that. I wish on every fucking thing you can wish on, that Bro hadn't gotten us involved in any of this bullshit. Sure, everything's been fine up until now. Sure, we make a decent amount of cash per break-in. But, don't you think that they'll eventually link all those other crimes up with us?” Dave sits back in his chair, and sighs in frustration, “I wish I could just go back in time or some shit, and just tell the past me to keep you and me at home. So we wouldn't have gotten mixed up in all this.”

John stares down at his boyfriend quietly, unsure of how to respond. Dave made a good point. John hadn't really thought about the fact that if they got caught for this one crime, they could get linked to other things they'd done. He turns his attention from Dave down to his foot. Now that he thought about it, the whole reason he even started in this business...well the reason behind it wasn't even justifiable anymore. So what if he'd lost his gig at the bar? Since he'd started working for Dave's brother, he hardly even had time to do his shows anyway. He could feel the guilt welling up in him. Dave and himself being caught up in this mess was entirely his fault.

“I'm sorry, Dave,” John says quietly, still staring down at his foot, “This is all my fault.”

“Oh c'mon John, don't go feelin' guilty for shit you ain't gotta feel guilty for.”

“But, it's my fault we were even _involved_ in this mess!” He looks away from his foot to stare at the floor.

He feels his foot shift from Dave's leg to the chair. It doesn't take long before he feels Dave pressed up against his uninjured leg. He feels Dave's hands on his waist, and before he knows it Dave pulls him closer to the edge of the table.

“Dave, what-” John goes to ask, as he looks up at Dave.

“Shhh,” Dave puts a finger on Johns lips, then pulls John into a hug. Johns face presses against Dave’s chest, his legs wrap a little awkwardly around Dave, but John relaxes into it regardless. John wraps his arms around Dave's torso the best he can, turning his head to press his ear against Dave's chest. Dave nuzzles his head against the top of Johns, and places a soft kiss against his head.

“This ain't your fault, Egbert. We were in a tight spot back then, we needed the cash. We let the prospect of money go to our heads and got wrapped up in some bad juu-juu. If you're gonna sit there and blame yourself then ya gotta blame me too,” Dave says softly.

“Dave, what are we going to do now? I mean, what if we _do_ get caught? What if they interrogate us or some shit?” John feels his arms tighten around Dave as his panic level rises. What _were_ they going to do?

“We're just gonna have to roll with it for now, aight? Pretend we're not involved, we didn't do nothing, all that bullshit. If cops come crawling at our door for whatever reason, we lie. We lie, and we stay quiet. But, we gotta do it so we don't look suspicious or nothing. So, I guess we only lie when we need to,” Dave trailed off, starting to sound unsure of himself, “I mean how the hell are they even going to know we were involved unless we shout it from the rooftops, right? They got no proof we were even there.”

Just before John can respond, the door to the room bursts open letting in a very distraught looking Jane. Jake follows close behind her, pale, speaking very quickly, and loudly. A person was thrown over his shoulder, dangling over his back. It took a few moments for it to register in John's mind that it was Bro, and there was blood trailing down his arm.

Cueball leans back in his chair, looking all posh and stuck up. By the look of his suit, he probably has the right to. Doesn't mean you have to like his attitude though. Of course, you're not here to evaluate this guys attitude, you're here to to investigate a crime! Oh wait, the cueball is saying something. You should probably listen, it's important.

“I was asleep in my room, you see, when I heard a very loud crash from down the hall. I was curious about what the noise was, seeing as I live alone in the middle of the woods up on the hill. I'm sure you've seen my mansion,” he grins proudly, “I grabbed the closest thing to me, which happened to be my walking cane,” Cueball drones on, and you tune him out.

You nod your head as he rambles on. You have a sudden craving for the black licorice scottie dogs that you know are hidden in your desk drawer. This isn't the time for sweet tasting licorice dogs! Get your head in the game, Slick!

“And so I entered my office, and there he was. Just digging through my things without a care in the world. I must have startled him though. He must have believed he was being quite careful, but he was very wrong in that. So, before I could do much else he pulled a gun out and shot me right here in the arm,” he points toward his injured arm, “Quite unfortunate really.”

You briefly wonder to yourself if you can stab this man and convince your superiors that your knife simply just slipped into his rib cage, for him being nothing but a waste of your time. Useful information your ass!

You do your best to seem polite, simply so the man doesn't complain to a higher up, “I'm not sure you're talking to the right man. If you wanna make a complaint about a robbery then you should go down to the precinct, and file a report.”

Cueball smiles gently at you, full of confidence, “I can assure you I'm in the right place.”

“Well, I don't see the connection, so _I_ can assure _you_ ya haven't.”

“That's because you haven't let me finish,” his smile stuck in place. God this guy is starting to creep you out. You can't tell if it's the way he grins, or if it's his eyes. The faster he's outta here, the better.

“Then finish it, I got lots of important things I need to be doing,” _like checking out the latest edition of Terrier Fancy Magazine._

“After the crook shot me, he ran out of the room through the window. But, he did not leave fast enough, as I was able to get a very good look at his face. It appeared that he took nothing with him. I investigated the area in which he had been searching later on; there I found the key that links this case to the museum one I have been seeing on TV.”

“And that is?” You couldn't help the annoyance that slipped out in your tone.

“Why it was the companion piece to the one stolen from the museum. Perhaps the crook had found out I had the other part of the collection and stopped by my place to get it.”

You think about this for a few moments. You hold a finger up to the Doc, and search through your folders of very important documents. Where was the picture of that blasted clock? Oh there it is. You hold it up to the man sitting across from you.

“You mean it was part of this set?”

He grins at you, “I'm sorry, I can't actually see what's on the paper there. I'm as blind as a bat I'm afraid. But, if it's a green clock, yes that is exactly what I'm talking about.”

You stare at the Doc. Blind? How the hell did he get all the way down here alone if he was blind? Furthermore, how the hell did he manage to get a look at the culprit? Something wasn't adding up here.

“You're blind?” you ask bluntly.

“Why yes I am, can't you tell by my eyes?” He grins at you.

“And you managed to see the culprit?” Doubt coats your voice.

“Yes indeed. Are you going to accept my assistance in your case?”

“But, how are you sure it's the guy I'm looking for?”

His grin turns from soft to sharp and malicious, “No need to worry about particulars. I'm more than one hundred percent positive that I can describe to any police artist what this man looks like. Without a doubt in my mind.”

“But, you're blind...” _What's this guys deal?_

“A small inconvenience. So small that it's insignificant. Something you could do well to keep amongst the two of us gentleman, am I correct?”

You feel like you've just been threatened. This man seems to know something he's not telling you, but what it is you can't begin to guess at. He seems convinced enough that he can help you with your case. You're sure that if word got out that you'd had an eye witness stop by, and you just let them leave...well you could probably get fired. You look the man up and down, a shudder crawling up your spine. What a creep.

“Sure, it's a deal. I'll set you up an appointment with our best sketch artist,” you say slowly.

“Brilliant. Thank you so much for your help,” he gets up, and walks toward the door. When he reaches it he turns back to look at you, giving you a small wink before leaving.

* * *

Before John has time to process what's going on, Jane quickly shoves him off the table. Dave quickly catches him, and drags him back away from the table. John leans against Dave, and sneaks a glance up at him. Dave's face is paler than John's ever seen it before, eyes wide as he stares at his older brother. John looks back over at the trio that had just plowed through the door.

Jake begins laying Dirk on the table carefully, as he spouts off loudly, “Jane I didn't know what to do! They just shot him, Janey!”

Jane shooshes him, pushing his hands away from Dirk. John watches as she tears Dirks shirt off him, and surveys the wound the best she can. Jake starts pacing around the room frantically, pushing his hair back every so often. Seeming to not notice the blood on his hands getting in his hair.

Dave's grip on John tightens, as he leans back against John. John becomes unsure of who is holding up who, but is extremely grateful for the wall behind them.

“We're going to need alcohol, and lots of it,” Jane shouts loudly.

No one moves, except for Jake's pacing.

She looks up after no one responds, and slams some of her medical tools against the metal table. This startles the men out of their stupor.

“For godsake, get your heads out of your asses and help me out here! Unless you want Dirk to bleed out?”

The men come to life in a flurry of motion. Jake quickly stops his pacing, before running out of the room quickly to find the alcohol. Dave practically drags John, who has to hop a little, over to the chair he had been occupying earlier.

Dave mumbles quietly, “stay here, I'll see if there's anything I can do to help,” before rushing over to Janes side.

Without so much as a glance in Dave's direction, Jane hands over a large cloth to him. Motioning toward the wound in Dirks shoulder she says, “put as much pressure on that as you possibly can, it won't do much good, but it may be able to help the bleeding just a little until Jake comes back with the alcohol.”

John sits in his chair silently, feeling nauseous. He watches as she scurries around the room quickly, gathering the tools she needs. For what, John doesn't really think he wants to know. John's attention turns from Jane to Dave. Dave's still pale, but his face has turned from one of shock to one of determination. He holds the cloth against Dirk's shoulder with both hands, putting as much pressure on the wound as he can, muscles straining slightly. John feels a swell of pride for his boyfriend wash over him, and silently wishes he could be more help. But, he knows if he so much as tried he'd just get in the way, and possibly stress Dave out a little more than necessary.

Jake returns, arms full with as much alcohol as he could carry. Jane grabs a bottle, pushing Dave aside carefully as she opens it. She begins pouring the liquid down on her hands, her tools, and the wound. John grimaces and looks over at Dirk; he remains unconscious.

Jane takes a deep breath in, grabbing what looks like a scalpel and tweezers from the medical tray she'd laid on the table.

“Those with weak stomachs may want to look away,” she warns as she bends over Dirk, tools held high.

But, before she can make her incision, the door bursts open again.

"Guys, we have a biig problem," Sollux shouts as he bursts into the room, Roxy hot on his tail. He spots Dirk laying on the medical table covered in blood, and Jane leaning over him armed with sharp medical tools. "Another...really big problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be avoiding writing about Jane performing unauthorized surgery on Dirk, because ew. But, oh no! Problems! Problems everywhere! What will happen next!!?? PROBABLY STUFF!! I also want to mention (again) that I post about updates and other stuff on my writing blog: mokayno.tumblr.com I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I'll try not to take so long to update this shit! Comments and Kudos keep me motivated, and are extremely appreciated! Love you all! <3


End file.
